Double Magick in the Falls

by April Hollingworth

  Entering the café, I spot Grandma Eve. Leaving Jasmine, I head inside, order lunch, and a bowl of water and head back outside.

  “Hey, Grandma. Look, I am ever so sorry, but I can’t work at the shop anymore. Seriously, I think some of your customers are stark raving mad,” I state with obvious frustration. With a laugh, Eve pats my hand.

  “Yes, I have heard of what happened with Evelyn Hayes and George Seabast the Fourth. Though apparently, you handled yourself with finesse. But you never did enjoy working in the shop. What will you do instead? I can ask about to find you a job if you like?”

  “I have a job already. I’m a freelance photographer.”

  “Well yes, but it’s not a full-time job. How will you survive financially?” Eve asks, with worry lacing her voice.

  “Grandma, my photos sell, and they bring in the money. There’s no need to worry about me,” I answer with a smile. “Anyway, I forgot to tell you my news; I’m buying the old Winters’ house.” The sudden sound of dishes crashing interrupts our conversation. Quickly standing, I help the waitress collect ruined food and coffee.

  “I’m so sorry,” gasps the shaking waitress.

  “That’s okay.”

  “I’ll be right back with your lunches, I’m sorry.”

  Watching the waitress scamper back inside, I turn and give Eve an exasperated look.

  “So much for keeping buying the house a secret,” I state with exasperation.

  “It’ll be old news anyway in another hour. It must still be making the rounds of the gossipmongers in town,” laughs Eve with satisfaction. “I’m glad you decided to buy it, you suit it, and the house needs love. Anyway, it was probably seeing that dog of yours, which made her stumble and drop the tray!”

  “I’m just surprised it hasn’t been snapped up before now. It’s such a gorgeous house.” I ignore her final comment as there’s no point in arguing.

  The waitress returns bringing our coffee and food. Taking the plate of rare steak, I chop it up giving it to Jasmine, to the shock of the waitress.

  “Thank you that’s lovely,” I say with a polite smile.

  “If you need anything else, just let me know. Your dog is beautiful,” replies the waitress with a wistful smile.

  A pleasant change. Giving Jasmine a smile, I’m delighted at least someone in this town is happy to see her.

  “Thank you, her name is Jasmine, and I’m Candi. What’s your name?”

  “Sally Jenson. Hi, Candi, I met you before when you first lived here. We were in class together.”

  “Wow, you have a good memory. Sorry I don’t remember.” Embarrassment flushes my cheeks.

  “I only remember you because you were living with your grandma, and because of what happened to your parents. The Protectors did the same to my cousins,” Sally answers, not realizing the distress she leaves my grandmother and me in, as she walks back inside the café.

  “The Protectors, they are a group? You knew didn’t you? Oh my God, you’ve known all this time they killed my parents! How could you not tell me?” I angrily demand. Feeling like I’m about to cry, I stand up and fling a quick, “I gotta go,” at my grandma, leaving with Jasmine on my heels.

  ****

  Heading back toward the shop and my parked car, I retrieve my keys so I can jump in before I burst into tears. Once in the safety of my car, I drive to the old Winters’ house, soon to be my home, parking around the back. Exiting, I head into the woods to look around, so I can cry without anyone seeing me.

  Chapter 3

  With Jasmine at my side, I haven’t even scrambled halfway through the woods, before I realize I can’t see, due to the tears streaming down my face. With a sob I collapse in-between broken branches and bracken, finally succumbing to my distress, I cry my heart out.

  The pain of my loss swiftly rushes to the surface. Surrounding me, as if it’d just happened. I curl my fingers through Jasmine’s soft fur as she half sits on me, giving me comfort.

  “When will their loss ever be less painful.” I sniffle as I hunt for a tissue to blow my runny nose.

  Her only response, a soft whine before placing her head on my shoulder.

  “I’ll figure out somehow, how to help you as well. You’ve been my best friend since the first day we met, when we both joined the army. I blame myself for you being stuck in this form. If I hadn’t begged you to transform before finding out all the answers, you wouldn’t be stuck. And the fact no one senses you’re a shifter terrifies me the most, because I wonder if I’ve lost you.” I promise, as tears stream down my face, while my heart feels like it’s breaking all over again.

  “Even if it means asking my grandma, though to be honest, a shifter would be more helpful,” I add, hugging her. With a sad woof, she stands shaking herself.

  “We will find an answer, even if it means going to the other side of town, though after the moon cycle calms the werewolves down of course,” I hastily add.

  With a grunt of agreement, she looks at me. With a final sigh, I scramble to my feet and walk farther into the woods to explore the land I’m buying. Breathing deeply, I feel peace enter my body the farther we go.

  Eventually I arrive at the ruins and come to a stop. Glancing down at Jasmine, I catch her staring intently at the ruins. Stealthily we move forward with me in the lead.

  Walking around, I notice the building from the outside seems sound enough. Watching where I step, I enter the old house. I spot uprooted floors and some fallen bricks. The inside of the house looks like it was ripped apart rather than abandoned.

  As I step into what would have been the kitchen, it becomes obvious the house has been gutted. A sense of sadness and expectation lingers in the building. As if the house is holding its breath, waiting to see what I’ll do next.

  Jasmine moves toward the stairs and climbs them with purpose. Following her, I ascend the stairs to the first landing and stare in shock at the destruction. Someone has smashed through some of the walls and ripped apart what little furniture left in the house.

  “What on earth happened here?” In horror, I stare at the destruction before me.

  Deciding I’ve seen enough, I descend the stairs and leave the house. Finding a spot in the sun, I plop down and wait for Jasmine to come out. I must have dozed off as I suddenly realize she’s sitting beside me, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, in a big doggy grin.

  “Hey, you like it here, don’t you?” I haven’t seen her look so relaxed in a long time. “If you want, when we get you back to yourself, you can have the house!” I get a happy tail wag and a gentle bump of her head against mine in answer. With a laugh, I clamber to my feet.

  “Come on. Let’s get back. I need to take some photos.”

  Retracing our steps, we arrive back at the old Winters’ house and my car, with only a few scratches to show for our adventure. Climbing in, I put my car in gear and head back to my gran’s house. I park and enter the house to collect my camera. Jasmine plops herself down on her bed, and with a grunt of contentment falls asleep.

  I enter the woods at the back of the house. I eventually become aware of the stillness and absolute quiet. Not a rustle or chirp of a bird disturbs the silence.

  While I’m taking photos, a feeling of uneasiness washes through me, and that’s when I spy the shoe. Moving at a stealthier pace, I advance taking continuous photos. An ankle appears followed by the cuff of a jeans-clad leg, and I know deep in my heart I am about to find the body of another victim of The Protectors.

  Confirmation comes when I see hands folded in front of the body, as if attempting to hold in the intestines, which are displayed around a grinning corpse.

  Taking as many photos as possible, I retrace my steps, exiting the woods as quickly and quietly as possible. I don’t want to bump into the killer if he is still around. Once out, I phone the police. The officer answering the call informs me to stay put. I quickly hurry home and make a copy of the photos on my computer, transferring them to a USB, which I hide in my des
k’s hidden drawer. I hurry back to the edge of the woods with Jasmine at my side.

  ****

  An hour and a half later, a detective finally turns up, and I am furious. As he exits his car, my internal magick tells me he’s a werewolf. Supernaturals meeting for the first time can immediately sense each other’s species. After that, we can sense the magick in each other, though most of us dampen down our powers, which make it harder to know exactly what species someone may be, making it feel like a low-level vibration, humming silently along a wire.

  “Sorry about the delay. So you found a body then?” he asks, as if he was talking about the blooming weather.

  “Yes, yes, I did. You can come see it, if you’re not too busy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I notice the detective standing straighter, taking a closer look at what I presume by his expression is an “impertinent witch” standing in front of him. His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline when he notices a dog sitting calmly beside me.

  “I said if you’re not too busy, since apparently it takes an hour and half to get from one side of town to another. Or is murder on this side of town less important than elsewhere?” I demand, practically spitting fire.

  With that comment left hanging in the air, I storm off into the woods. I sense the detective following, as he walks too quietly for me to hear him. The further I walk into the woods, the stealthier I become. If the murderer is still here, I would rather he didn’t surprise me due to my temper.

  I’m positive the detective can scent the body. Being a werewolf, he would have to be a complete failure not to, with their heightened sense of smell. When we finally arrive at the scene, I move out of the way so the detective can see the body.

  Scavengers had started to eat in the period of time it’d taken him to get here, which isn’t surprising, as the victim was human. If it had been a supernatural, the animals would have stayed away for another couple of hours, if not longer.

  With a quiet curse, which I have a feeling he thought I shouldn’t be able to hear, he steps closer to the corpse.

  Looking at the destroyed crime scene, I feel sorry for the dead man. The probability of the murderer being caught is slim to none. Glancing at the detective, I’m glad to hand over my digital card with the photos of the crime scene, before the animals disturbed it. The detective looks like he takes his job seriously and will do everything he can to solve the murder.

  “I took photos of the crime scene when I arrived,” I inform him, handing him my card.

  “What?” Shock flickers across his face.

  “I’m a photographer, and was out taking photos when I found your John Doe there. Hence I took photos of the scene as I found it.” Seeing his expression I get annoyed. “Mind you, if you had bothered coming quicker, this poor man would not be in such...”

  With a growl, I shove my card at him and turn and walk off back the way we’d come. I don’t get far before a large hand drops on my shoulder trying to drag me to a halt. Quickly grasping his wrist, I flip the detective. With a gasp of surprise, he lands flat on his back with a thunk and a string of curses.

  “I would advise you to never grab me again Detective...?” I practically growl.

  “Kheda McKnight.”

  I notice the shock on the detective’s face and guess he wasn’t flipped often due to his impressive six foot two inches, broad powerful shoulders, muscular chest, narrow hips, and long muscular legs. He would make most male werewolves nervous with their superior strength, let alone other species or even humans.

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you. Why is the shapeshifter staying in animal form?” Kheda inquires with curiosity lacing his voice.

  With a start, I turn to look at Jasmine. With hope blossoming in my heart, I move toward the detective as he gingerly rises to his feet.

  “Jasmine’s stuck in her dog form, and I don’t know how to change her back.” I pace in agitation before coming to a stop in front of him. “She’s been like this for just over a year. I don’t know what to do to bring her back.”

  A whine comes from Jasmine. She’s flopped onto the ground, head on her paws and a sorrowful expression in her blue eyes.

  “Oh, sweetie, we will find out how to get you back again.” Kneeling down beside her, I scratch her behind the ears in the spot she likes best.

  “What happened for…Jasmine, was it? To make her stay so long in her animal form? Look, find out what trauma caused her to enter her dog form for protection. As she’s still in it, a part of her mustn’t feel safe yet.”

  He stares thoughtfully at Jasmine. “I need to get the coroner down here to collect John Doe. I also need to check out these photos and take your statement. Can you come down to the station now please? I’ll also need your contact details.”

  “Sure, I’ll meet you there.”

  “If you want I can give you a lift, and I appreciate you meeting me here, otherwise the body would have sat a lot longer. Normally a witch detective would come out to the scene, but no one else was available, which is why the long wait for me to arrive.”

  At my confused expression, Kheda carries on. “Other supernatural species are not allowed in the witches’ woods unless escorted by a witch. So normally a witch detective would investigate to make things easier.”

  “Okay…let’s go,” I reply feeling more puzzled than anything, as we continue through the trees back the way we’d come.

  Chapter 4

  An hour later, we finally leave the police station. By this time I’m starving and decide to grab a burger from Hal’s diner. Situated across the river on the East side, it’s known for serving the best burgers in Paradise Falls. As it’s just around the corner from where I’d seen the vampire last night, I know it probably isn’t the best idea I’ve had in a while, but hunger wins out. Was it really only last night? Damn, a lot has happened in the last, no…not even twenty-four hours!

  “Come on, girl, I’m starving,” I say heading toward the University on West Avenue.

  Crossing over West Bridge, we bypass the tattoo parlor named Tattoo Parlor, no imagination from the owners, which makes the fact they do the best tattoos I have seen even more surprising.

  I dash past the car park. I hate walking past car parks when it’s dark. They give me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies. Just because I can take care of myself, does not mean I like to take careless risks.

  Continuing along Brokers Walk, we turn left at the Pawn Shop toward Sterling nightclub, where I hear the first sounds of life since crossing East Bridge. The sounds of dance music flitting through the night, barely penetrates the quiet before fading, startling me.

  Glancing down at Jasmine, I notice she seems just as surprised, cautiously I look around. Complete silence. No breeze, nobody jogging or walking. Nothing. It’s like I’ve entered a silent cocoon, where the nightclub’s music can barely be heard.

  It feels wrong and confusing. I hadn’t sensed anything, let alone noticed how unnatural it was. But now that I have, I want to be off the streets, fast. Without saying a word, I hurry toward the club and cross to Hal’s Diner.

  Entering Hal’s, it’s like someone’s pierced the sound bubble, letting it all in, a sudden excruciatingly painful, sonic boom of full blown volume. The rush of noise wrenches a gasp of pain from my mouth, almost bringing me to my knees.

  Sheer determination and willpower alone keep me from collapsing. My poor ears are ringing and the sudden volume brings on the beginnings of a migraine.

  Jasmine is having similar problems, judging from her whine of pain. With her sensitive ears, this isn’t too surprising. Grimly we make it to the nearest empty table, situated on the far side of the diner by a window. With a relieved moan, I finally manage to collapse into the booth.

  “What can I get you?” asks the waitress who appears five minutes later.

  Thankfully, I’ve gotten my breath back, so I order a M50 burger, taco chips, and a large diet soda for myself and a bowl of water and a rare steak for Jasmine. The
waitress, whose nametag reads Savannah, gives her a friendly ear scratch before leaving with our order.

  Glancing out the window, I see people on the streets looking confused and a little frightened. One pedestrian, on seeing Hal’s makes a dash for the door. Upon entering, he lets out a scream and promptly passes out. Customers who are closest to the man lift him, bringing him to the nearest booth, which is still occupied by a woman I presumed was sleeping, but in fact is probably also unconscious. Savannah returns to my table carrying a tray of delicious smelling food.

  “What is going on out there?” I ask as I stare at the man in the booth in confusion. “Why did he pass out?” I cut up the steak and put it on the table in front of Jasmine.

  “I’m not sure; it’s been like this for the last couple of hours.” Glancing at the man passed out in the booth, Savannah continues. “Those of weaker magick are having a rougher time. If you need anything else, let me know.” She smiles before walking off.

  I pick up my burger and with a groan of satisfaction bite into it; mushrooms, tomatoes, beef, bacon, Gouda cheese, lettuce, and special sauce all in a sesame bun; pure heaven. With the flavors bursting in my mouth, I feel good for the first time since leaving the police station.

  ****

  Halfway through my meal, the door to Hal’s opens again. The man entering looks vaguely familiar. With a grimace of distaste, he scans the room and heads in my general direction. Not surprising since the only empty booths are near me. I carry on eating until a shadow falls over the table. Assuming it’s the waitress, I look up and am surprised to see the man standing beside me.

  “Can I help you?” I ask puzzled.

  “You can move over so I can sit down,” he answers with a voice like rich velvet.

  “Why?” Blimey, I could listen to his voice forever. But I don’t recognize it, so where have I seen him before? If I had talked to him, I would definitely remember, so why does he want to sit with me?